Grell the Reaper
by BlackButlerFreak
Summary: The Phantomhive's are dead and Angelina is devastated. When she ends up in Undertaker's embrace, and with a child of her own, what will she do? And now Ciel has returned... bad summary, story is better (i hope). Rated M cuz I'm kinda paranoid. Slight gore and slight sex-scene (I'll post warnings as needed) Undertaker MadameRed Grell Slight Grelliam, if you squint...
1. Chapter 1

Here's my newest Black Butler fic, Grell the Reaper. Don't judge me,... i know the title sucks :/

Plot Summary: The Phantomhive's are dead, and Angelina is a wreck, ending herself in the Undertaker's embrace. When she finds herself pregnant, what will she do with the child? And now Ciel is alive as well...

Warnings: Character Death (is it still a character death if they're human?) slight gore... in chapter 2. Implied sex/smut scenes... in this chapter. Prolly not in any later chapters... :/

***Important A/N: The story technically takes place when Ciel returns with Sebastian, right after being kidnapped and all that... (shit i'm getting confused here... O.O i need to re-read the manga...) Basically, its AU, cuz the story doesn't follow a specific arc in the manga or anime :/ Also, when I posted this on deviantart, I said the whole Jack the Ripper arc didn't take part in the story... though now I fail to see how its actually relevant to the story :/ shit i am so confused right now... I think I'm mixing two arcs...

OK! So, Ciel does return with Sebastian, and Madame Red does get pregnant, definately AU: she gets pregnant! She doesn't go on a killing spree or anything, her and Grell aren't partners in crime or anything. No murdering, just reaping. ^^

I'm sorry for the terrible description, I'm still somewhat confused (gee, how wonderful) but don't worry, when I planned out the story, I wasn't confused :D (though, if the story does end up getting mixed up, I shall sort it out... without having to re-write the entire story ^^)

Also, a BIG Thank-you to Himeka Michaelis-Sebby's Kitty, she gave me the idea of UndertakerxMadameRed=Grell ^^ And thank you to my younger cousin, who helped plan the story while we were driving her home ^^

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The cold wind bit at her face as soon as she'd opened the pub door and walked out. It was just past midnight and Angelina stumbled out onto the dirty streets of London, not knowing where she was headed. Her mind was numb, which was exactly what had been her mission upon entering the pub, many hours earlier.

Her hair whipped around her face and her hat threatened to fall off her petite head as she followed the street lamps to guide her. Late passersby grumbled to themselves at the late coldness and at a woman stumbling around drunk, it was entirely unsuitable for women, much more for a woman of her class.

Her heeled shoes scraped along the stone streets as she swayed and nearly tripped several times. Nearby, a streetlamp illuminated the front of an oddly decorated store titled "Undertaker's". Thinking she could sleep in there for the night, for she had absolutely no idea where she was, Angelina made her way over to the door and turned the knob. When the knob turned instead of staying put as she had expected, she fell forward with the door, landing on the dirty floor with a loud thump.

"Owww " she mumbled, lifting her hand to rub at her sore head and pushing her hat off in the process. Clouded in her own drunken state, she had deaf ears to the sound of shoes making their way over to her. The robed man crouched down beside her and pushed some red hair out of her face so he could look at her more clearly.

"My my~, what have we here?" he chuckled as Angelina looked up at him with a very confused look. He lifted her up and she instantly put all her weight onto him, luckily, handling corpses all day gave him quite the exercise and muscle.

"Hoh there m'dear! Had too much from the bottle did we~?" he cackled softly, brushing some dirt off her beautiful red coat. She nodded and pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly. She squinted and widened her eyes in attempt to see clearly.

_Where was she?_ Even her numbed mind could tell she'd never been here before. _And who was this wild-looking man?_ He had long grey hair, but his face bore no wrinkles. He wore a long, black hat... how odd. And long black robes with buckled boots underneath. _What strange clothing_. _I'm sure I would've remembered ever having encountered this man before_, she thought to herself as she unknowingly sat on a coffin.

The lid was open and she fell backwards, her chin reaching her knees and her arms sticking straight out. Undertaker hid his laughter behind his robed hand and went to help her out. Holding out his hand for her, she took it and pulled him down with her, causing her legs to widen and wrap around his waist. His nose tickled her throat as his hands fumbled for the base of the coffin to steady himself.

When he finally managed to stand up, he smiled at their fumble and took a step back, getting blocked when the Madame's legs tightened their hold on his waist. A thin silvery eyebrow shot up, but his long bangs covered that. She drunkenly smiled up at him, a smile that could easily be mistaken as a lewd one.

A hand reached up and wrapped itself in his robes and gently pulled him down, pressing their soft lips together. To say the Undertaker was shocked was putting it mildly. Even at his age it was hard to surprise or shock him, but having a drunken lady dressed from head to toe in red, stumble into his shop and kiss him, had to take the prize.

Seeing no harm in the situation, he kissed her back. Her hands inched their way around his neck and pulled him down, deepening their embrace. When the edge of the coffin pressed painfully into his hip bone, Undertaker broke their kiss, but only for a moment as he crawled on top of her, positioning themselves so they were laying in the coffin. Her legs were still spread apart to accommodate him easily and quickly pushed her lips against his.

Her kiss was sloppy, of course, but Undertaker didn't seem to mind as she fumbled with his top-coat buttons. His hat slipped off his head and tumbled to the ground, rolling under a nearby coffin.

Soon enough, her slim fingers had managed to push his coat off his shoulders, and with his help, shrugged it off entirely. Their tongues were now mixed in; rolling in and out of their mouths in a disorderly fashion, sending dribbles of spit down their chins and jaws as they pawed at each other's clothes until they were flesh on top on flesh.

Undertaker's hair got tangled quite quickly as Madame's hands trembled all over his body, grabbing onto anything they could latch themselves onto. A moan slipped out of her as their bodies rocked together, causing the coffin to wobble dangerously on its table. The door was still wide open, letting in the rain and cold wind, which helped cool down their over-heated bodies.

The sounds of their pleased moans, the rocking of wood on wood mixed with the roll and clash of thunder only added to their excitement. The rain increased, plummeting down so hard it would likely cause harm to those still wandering outside. Loud rumbles and bursts of thunder got louder and louder with each flash of lightning that illuminated the dark and shabby store.

If anyone were to look inside the open door, they would find a dark room filled with coffins, along with the back of a silver-haired mortician popping up from a coffin now and then. However, only a stray cat scurried into the shop to hide from the cold rain and loud noises, finding comfort in the forgotten top hat.

Soft mewls woke the Undertaker the following morning. He poked his head out of the coffin and found a small kitten peering up at him with wide eyes. He smiled and chuckled once he noticed the open door. Noticing several passersby, he clambered out of the box and quickly pulled his clothes on, but not before closing his front door and the blinds.

It didn't matter if he didn't open at his usual time; bodies rarely came in so early in the morning anyway. As he went to pick up his hat, he noticed the sleeping figure of the red-lady. Giggling like what some may find as an old pervert, he creeped to her side and lay her now crinkled red dress atop her exposed form, brushing a stray strand of hair from her closed eyes.

"Truly beautiful, you are m'lady." He murmured softly before taking her hand in his and lifting it to press a soft kiss to her knuckles before laying it back down. Tearing his gaze away from the beautiful but mysterious woman, he bent down to reach his hat, dusting it off and carefully placing it atop his mussed hair.

The kitten mewled again and he bent down again, holding out a long-nailed and bony finger to the kitten. It sniffed his finger before sticking its small pink tongue out and licking him. Smiling to himself, he picked up the small feline and carried her to a backroom to feed her whatever he could find. He was too preoccupied with his corpses to go out and properly feed himself anyways, so he tried to keep store of un-perishable food.

It was at that moment, when Undertaker had found a small can of tuna, that Madame Red woke. Her eyes fluttered open and she instantly realized she didn't know where she was. She knew perfectly well what her ceiling looked like, and this was not it.

She sat up slowly, taking in her surroundings and lack of clothes. Her head throbbed rather painfully and she glanced around before hopping out quickly, ignoring the pain, and wiggling into her clothes as fast as she could without tearing it. Once she'd found her hat and dusted it off, she raked her fingers through her hair to appear presentable and made her way to the door.

She didn't know who worked or lived here, and didn't care to know. She thought she had the gist of what occurred last night, and preferred to act as if nothing had happened, hence leaving unannounced. She scurried out of the darkly decorated store and walked up to the nearest friendly-looking face she could find for directions to a more familiar part of London.

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I would greatly appreciate it if anyone gave me a helpful critique, either on the story or my writing-style, I AM trying to improve!

Thanks so much for reading! I'd loo~ve it if you might leave a small message for me in that little box just below here... ya, that one. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter two!

It may only be the second chapter, but alot happens.

Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed!

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Once she'd arrived home, she slammed her door shut and leaned back against it, taking a deep breath. What had she done last night? She never went out drinking alone, much less allow herself to get drun- oh yes the Phantomhives.

Tears started streaming down her cheeks as soon as she remembered the loss of her dearest sister, nephew and _him..._ the man she would always love. Why had God taken him away from her? Her eyes burned and she felt her face heat up as she tried to walk to her bedroom. Nearly tripping several times in the hallway, she stumbled up the stairs, taking slow steps as the truth burned into her heart, deepening her tears.

Her foot slipped and she fell, catching herself before she got hurt. The loss of her family weighed her down, crushing her heart. Was this how fate would always treat her? Give her something to be happy about and then snatch it away before she could truly be happy? Her shoulders curled and she dipped her head as she cried out her soul, her sobs echoing through the empty house.

After hours of grieving, she'd managed to change and eat a light supper. The maid had asked if she would need her for the night, but Madame had thanked and refused her help. She would be alright. Atleast that was what she kept telling herself.

She settled herself down in front of a warm fire with a cup of tea in her hands, and stared at the dancing flames. The yellows, oranges, reds and whites intertwined so beautifully it was difficult to say where one colour started and another ended. She watched the fire for hours until it was nothing but sizzling coals, like _them_. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and fell into her cup of cold tea. She paid no mind to it as she sipped it, placed the cup onto the saucer with a small clink, and slipped into her bed, eyes wide open as she gazed at her ceiling.

Sleep was troublesome that night for the Madame, images of the manor burning down along with ashen corpses kept her awake all night. It wasn't until several weeks later that something seemed out of the order.

Angelina woke one morning to find herself ill. Rushing to the bathroom, she emptied her stomach and washed herself. Her chest felt sore and she felt like she might be sick again. Calling in to say she wouldn't be able to work today, Angelina took some medicine and rested all day, vomiting now and then. When she didn't feel any better the next day, she dressed herself all warmly and huddled over to work.

With the help of another doctor, they found her to be pregnant. Angelina's shock was stupendous, how could she, be pregnant? She hadn't had any sexual encounters for months (not that she hadn't tried) her mind refused to let her believe it was that long-haired man's fault it- didn't seem possible. But it was the only answer.

She thanked the doctor for his help, and walked home, her feet taking slow steps as she processed the fact she was pregnant. She'd always wanted a child, and now she'd have one. Joy burst through her, but so did worry. She didn't know the man, at all. Not his name, not his career, not his age she barely remembered his face! But that hair was unmistakable anywhere. And those eyes. Those piercing, green eyes. It was all she remembered from her night of pleasure.

What really worried her, was the child's health. Who knew if the man was healthy? If he had any medical issues? Oh, the gossip it would cause. Being pregnant with no husband, how dirty of her. Her social friends would think terribly of her, and the rumours would spread quite quickly... unless unless she lived as a hermit for 9 months or so. Nodding, she thought maybe she could hide it from everyone.

She could still go out for the first month or so, but afterwards, she'd stay locked up in her house, no visitors, no parties. Tch, no parties. She enjoyed the parties very much, they made her feel alive and let her forget _him_ for a few hours. But now she'd be cooped up in her house, all alone with her thoughts. How dreadfully depressing.

She swore that if she hadn't committed suicide by the time the baby was born, she'd take care of it, telling those who asked (and they would) that she'd adopted it. Yes, this was turning out quite nicely in fact. She smiled as she walked the rest of the way to her house, her worries mostly gone.

"Here you go miss, one step at a time." Her maid encouraged as she helped her mistress down the stairs to get to her wheelchair at the bottom. She had felt a rather strong kick from the child and her water had broken. Yelling out for her maid, they managed to get her to the hospital in less than 15 minutes time. The doctors rushed her to the emergency room, leaving her maid waving at her with a dampened hanker chief in her hand.

The child had grown quite healthily she'd observed, and other doctors had agreed with her. She would be able to deliver it. The happiness and joy that she'd felt at that moment had been indescribable. She would have her first child! Though the doctors asked who the father was, noticing she wasn't the common whore, she simply replied with 'he was away on important business'. They gave her strange looks, but she ignored them. Who cared what they thought when she was going to give birth? As she was being wheeled into the emergency room, she contemplated whether or not she would seek out the father and tell him. Shaking her head, she said she'd raise she child on her own. The man didn't need to know he was a father, she'd be perfectly fine raising it by herself.

Large green eyes stared up at her as tiny fingers played together. She rocked her little girl back and forth gently, the doctors giving them last-minute check-ups before leaving her in peace with her first child. The delivery had been successful, it had been quite painful, but definitely worth it. She now held a little girl with a small tuft of bright red spurting out of her head. (Thankfully, the baby hadn't inherited the man's hair good god what would people say to a baby with grey hair?)

She had puffy cheeks, resembling a squirrels', and long eyelashes that made her already beautiful large eyes, pop. She'd inherited her mothers' bright red hair, but she'd gotten the father's striking green eyes. They contrasted rather nicely, and the doctors had been somewhat surprised at the genes. Once the nurses had left, Angelina was left alone with her precious, baby girl. Her heart soared as she smiled at her very own accomplishment. The baby didn't have a name not yet anyways. The baby was unique, and she wanted a unique name for her. Eliza? No Mary-Sou? Sounded too childish for a name What about Grell? Yes. Grell Durless. What a beautiful name. Angelina quickly called in the doctor to tell him the news.

Loud wails reached the ears of all as Grell cried. Angelina picked up her baby and held her against her shoulder, waltzing softly and humming Grell's favourite lullaby. She quieted down almost immediately, grabbing a fistful of Angelina's hair and closing her eyes.

"Tch, Grell " she winced at the sharp tug and had to keep her head leaned to the side. Grell was nearly impossible at times, and it was at those times that Angelina seriously considered telling the father. But she'd always convinced herself she didn't need his help. She didn't even know where or how to find him even if she'd wanted to.

Grell loved her, and she had the maid to help out whenever possible. She was currently preparing a warm bottle of milk for her downstairs, though Angelina doubted Grell would drink it, seeing as she'd fallen asleep on her shoulder, hair still clenched tightly in her tiny palm. She sighed and laid down on he bed, being mindful that Grell stay asleep. When the maid came up, the opened the door and nearly yelled out "I've got the milk m'lady!" Angelina had shushed her and the maid left, grumbling to herself about indecisive babies.

Angelina took excellent care of Grell, making sure no one other than her maid knew about her. It was her own private secret, a secret that was now her life.

While walking out in the market one day, feeling rather cheerful for once in her life, she overheard some gossiping ladies.

"Have you heard? The Phantomhive child is back!"

"Yes I did hear that! And apparently his mansion is back in order as well. How strange, wasn't it burnt to ruins?'

"Yes it was! That's what makes it so puzzling " the ladies walked off, leaving Angelina in a state of shock.

Ciel was _alive_? Impossible. She'd seen the burning mansion with her own eyes. The corpses had been reduced to ashes, but it just seemed impossible that _he_ could be alive. Reality snapped in and she started running home, her heeled boots clicking against the stone. The few packages she'd bought were loose in her arms and a small one dropped to the ground. She paid no attention to it and kept running until she barged through her front door and let her packages drop to the floor.

"Mary! Mary where are you? Mary!" she called out. Running footsteps were heard and soon enough, her maid appeared. "Yes ma'am?" she asked rather stiffly; she was sure her mistresses' calling had woken the baby, when it had taken her all afternoon to get her to go to sleep.

"Call a cab! Right now!" she panted urgently, clutching a stich in her side. "Yes ma'am." She bowed and walked to the phone. "Hurry!" Angelina screeched, sitting on the lowest step. Hurried footsteps could be heard as Angelina walked upstairs to check on her darling Grell. She'd woken up, thanks to her yelling, but wasn't crying.

Angelina walked over and gently rubbed Grell's puffy cheek. Seeing her mother seemed to cheer her up as she gurgled happily and clasped one of Angelina's fingers in her tiny hands.

"Oh my baby my darling." She cooed as she bent to pick up her precious. Her bright red hair had grown to her shoulders in just a year, and her eyes shined bright green as she looked up at her mother. Angelina thought she might die of happiness; she had Grell in her arms, and there was the possibility that Ciel might be alive, she would be able to have her darling sister and him altogether.

Such joy was interrupted when the sudden shrill of the doorbell rung. "That'll be the cab ma'am." Her maid called out.

She placed a quick kiss to Grell's plump cheek and set her back down in her crib where she giggled and spread her small lips into a toothless smile. Angelina smiled back, and placed a last small kiss on her forehead before hurrying downstairs and hopping into the cab.

"Phantomhive manor please. And quick." She said as she sat down.

"Pardon me miss, but it burned down years ago." He looked at her confusedly.

"Phantomhive manor if you please." She commanded, giving him a friendly but stern smile. The driver shrugged his shoulders and drove to the burned down estate.

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And there we go! Hope you liked it ^^


	3. Chapter 3

hellu hellu!

Here is the next chapter.. for those who've been waiting; I'm sorry.. I was working on another one of my future fics ^^ For those fo you who don't care... well... eat a banana. -.-

As always, tell me what you think ^^

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When they arrived, the driver couldn't help but stick his head out the window and gape at the refurbished mansion before him. Angelina paid him and hurried up the stairs, barging in without knocking and hurrying into the first room she found. Her eyes came upon Ciel, who sported a bandage over his right eye and a tall, black-clad butler at his side. "Ciel! I couldn't believe the rumours. You're truly alive!" she rushed over and cupped his small face in her gloved hands and tears started streaming down her cheeks as she stared at his damaged face.

"Aunt Anne…" he murmured before they shared an embrace, her cries being muffled. His frame was rather slim and bony, and he still bore several bruises and cuts, the gauze over his eye being the worst.

"How? How did you manage to s-survive the fire?" she choked out, her red eyes filled with tears as she gazed into his large blue one. "It doesn't matter…" he said softly, avoiding her eyes. He looked up at his tall butler, "Sebastian, prepare some tea."

"Yes, my lord." He bowed and left the two alone to talk.

They spent a rather informative afternoon together, Angelina continuously asking where he'd been and Ciel refusing to answer her properly. It was with a pained heart that she left, several hours later. Ciel had shown little emotion, but Angelina dismissed it as grief for his parents. When she boarded a cab once again, she looked out and saw the butler come to stand dutifully behind Ciel. She smiled up at her nephew before giving the driver her address.

The disappearance of her mother had left Grell rather lonely. The maid wasn't fun to be play with; she was always grumpy and made Grell cry. She gave her milk that was too hot, and always held her too tightly, so in return she screamed in her ear.

But now she was alone, the maid was, thankfully, downstairs. Gurgling in curiosity, she stood up with the help of the bars on her crib. Her small fingers curled around one of the several bars before her, and gripped it tightly. When she pulled it towards her, the wood gave way and broke. She reached for another one beside it, and pulled. It broke as well.

Being born half-human and half-death god gave her semi supernatural abilities. Strength being one of them. She managed to break enough bars for her to slip through and land on the floor softly. She giggled in success and tried to stand up, placing her hands out in front of her for balance. One of her feet reached out and she managed to take a step. And another, and another.

Her sleep-suit covered her feet and she had difficulty walking without falling. She managed to wobble-walk all the way across the room to the stairs. Holding on to the lower part of a bar, she squatted and went to place a foot on the first step. Her padded foot slipped just as she started putting her weight on said foot, and she fell, tumbling down the stairs in a screaming mess.

Her small head came into contact with the hard floor steps several times and by the time she reached the ground floor, she was covered in blood, a crack in her skull. Her wails got the attention of the maid who rushed over and screamed as soon as she saw the blood. She ran around the house screaming and flailing her arms around, unsure of what to do. Call the police? Or the ambulance? What for, the baby would die anyways. And she didn't know where her mistress had gone, so she couldn't contact her… so she ran around the house until the found herself back at the stairs, where her screams increased and she ran out the door, yelling for all to hear.

Grell's wails were like a piercing knife through the empty house, the blood dribbled out of her head as she lay curled on the floor, her last few moments of life pouring out of her quite quickly as she was able to make out the figure of a well-dressed man come up to her. She could barely distinguish him through her squinty-eyes and blood, but she could tell he was tall, dressed in black, and he'd bent down to see her.

The sight before him was enough to send anyone to a sobbing fit. The baby lay crying, covered in blood and tears as her short life came to an end. She was an odd reap; he noticed her distinct green eyes and knew at once she could see him, although it made no difference whether she could see him or not; she'd be dead soon enough. He bent down and blinked back tears as he opened his ledger, reading aloud her file. "Grell Durless, born April 2nd 1893, died May 7th 1894. Dead from tumble down staircase. Daughter of a Grim Reaper and human. No other additional remarks." He stamped her file as 'Completed' and closed his ledger. As he stared into her eyes, he felt a certain fondness for her, even though the light was quickly fading from them. He held out his death scythe and placed it gently against Grell's bloody temple. He watched her record as he had thousands before. She'd been born from a human, but had been blessed to have Reaper blood in her. An idea struck the Reaper, an odd idea, a very odd idea, but... possibly a plausible one. As he stood contemplating what to do, he heard the front door open and took that as his cue to leave. Humans couldn't see Reapers, not unless they were about to be Reaped, but he felt it was the time to leave none the less; he still had paperwork to fill out.

He left just as the woman of the house let out a blood-curdling scream. Angelina had arrived home to find the front door open, along with a blood-soaked Grell at the bottom of the stairs. She clung to the door for stability as her heart raced, threatening to pop at any second. It couldn't be possible… _no…. not Grell… oh please, God no…_

But there she lay, in a pool of red, her eyes glazed over as she started to turn a sickly shade of yellow. Her vision went foggy as tears poured out, down her cheeks and dripping onto her fancy red coat, dragging with them her makeup. She felt as if her heart had been ripped out, which it probably had, seeing it dead on the floor. Turning her head away from the terrifying sight, she covered her eyes with her gloved hands and slid down the door. The house was empty, save for her.

She lived on the edge of London, with passersby walking by her house. They could see her weeping at the open door, but none offered help, nor any sign that they saw her. They walked by with their own lives, oblivious to the one that had ended mere feet away from them. Angelina sat in her house, all alone, with her own secret, her dead secret.

As she looked up at peek at Grell, she found herself crawling over to be with her one and only child. She choked out sobs as her red eyes gazed at her world. Her silken hair framed her bloodied face, tainted with a deeper shade of red. Her large green eyes were still wide open, but were devoid of life. Her small lips were parted mid-scream with her tiny fingers balled into tight fists near her delicate head. Angelina's shoulders shook as she held out a shaking hand to caress her baby's cheek one last time. She would never be happy again, she couldn't, not when her soul had died. Had it not been for Ciel's return, she would've killed herself, only to be with her one child. Sounds of Grell's happy gurgle filled her mind as a fresh wave of tears poured out and she pulled her hand back, clutching at her heart.

Gut-wrenching sobs echoed through the lonely house as nighttime slowly consumed London.

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Oh, the drama... :P

Who knows when the next chapter will be posted? Who knows... Like fellow fanfic writers, the more reviews I get, the faster I work on the next chapter ^^


	4. Chapter 4

UndertakerxMadameRed if you squint, you might see some Grelliam

AU (Does NOT follow the manga OR anime) / might be OOC

Warnings: Character death D:

* * *

When they arrived, the driver couldn't help but stick his head out the window and gape at the refurbished mansion before him. Angelina paid him and hurried up the stairs, barging in without knocking and hurrying into the first room she found. Her eyes came upon Ciel, who sported a bandage over his right eye and a tall, black-clad butler at his side.

"Ciel! I couldn't believe the rumours. You're truly alive!" she rushed over and cupped his small face in her gloved hands and tears started streaming down her cheeks as she stared at his damaged face. "Aunt Anne…" he murmured before they shared an embrace, her cries being muffled. His frame was rather slim and bony, and he still bore several bruises and cuts, the gauze over his eye being the worst.

"How? How did you manage to s-survive the fire?" she choked out, her red eyes filled with tears as she gazed into his large blue one. "It doesn't matter…" he said softly, avoiding her eyes. He looked up at his tall butler, "Sebastian, prepare some tea."

"Yes, my lord." He bowed and left the two alone to talk.

They spent a rather informative afternoon together, Angelina continuously asking where he'd been and Ciel refusing to answer her properly. It was with a pained heart that she left, several hours later. Ciel had shown little emotion, but Angelina dismissed it as grief for his parents. When she boarded a cab once again, she looked out and saw the butler come to stand dutifully behind Ciel. She smiled up at her nephew before giving the driver her address.

The disappearance of her mother had left Grell rather lonely. The maid wasn't fun to be play with, she was always grumpy and made Grell cry. She gave her milk that was too hot, and always held her too tightly, so in return she screamed in her ear.

But now she was alone, the maid was, thankfully, downstairs. Gurgling in curiosity, she stood up with the help of the bars on her crib. Her small fingers curled around one of the several bars before her, and gripped it tightly. When she pulled it towards her, the wood gave way and broke. She reached for another one beside it, and pulled. It broke as well.

Being born half-human and half-death god gave her semi supernatural abilities. Strength being one of them. She managed to break enough bars for her to slip through and land on the floor softly. She giggled in success and tried to stand up, placing her hands out in front of her for balance. One of her feet reached out and she managed to take a step. And another, and another.

Her sleep-suit covered her feet and she had difficulty walking without falling. She managed to wobble-walk all the way across the room to the stairs. Holding on to the lower part of a bar, she squatted and went to place a foot on the first step. Her padded foot slipped just as she started putting her weight on said foot, and she fell, tumbling down the stairs in a screaming mess.

Her small head came into contact with the hard floor steps several times and by the time she reached the ground floor, she was covered in blood, a crack in her skull. Her wails got the attention of the maid who rushed over and screamed as soon as she saw the blood. She ran around the house screaming and flailing her arms around, unsure of what to do. Call the police? Or the ambulance? What for, the baby would die anyways. And she didn't know where her mistress had gone, so she couldn't contact her… so she ran around the house until the found herself back at the stairs, where her screams increased and she ran out the door, yelling for all to hear.

Grell's wails were like a piercing knife through the empty house, the blood dribbled out of her head as she lay curled on the floor, her last few moments of life pouring out of her quite quickly as she was able to make out the figure of a well-dressed man come up to her. She could barely distinguish him through her squinty-eyes and blood, but she could tell he was tall, dressed in black, and he'd bent down to see her.

The sight before him was enough to send anyone to a sobbing fit. The baby lay crying, covered in blood and tears as her short life came to an end. She was an odd reap; he noticed her distinct green eyes and knew at once she could see him, although it made no difference whether she could see him or not; she'd be dead soon enough.

He bent down and blinked back tears as he opened his ledger, reading aloud her file. "Grell Durless, born April 2nd 1893, died May 7th 1894. Dead from tumble down staircase. Daughter of a Grim Reaper and human. No other additional remarks." He stamped her file as 'Completed' and closed his ledger. As he stared into her eyes, he felt a certain fondness for her, even though the light was quickly fading from them. He held out his death scythe and placed it gently against Grell's bloody temple. He watched her record as he had thousands before. She'd been born from a human, but had been blessed to have Reaper blood in her. An idea struck the Reaper, an odd idea, a very odd idea, but possibly a plausible one. As he stood contemplating what to do, he heard the front door open and took that as his cue to leave. Humans couldn't see Reapers, not unless they were about to be Reaped, but he felt it was the time to leave none the less; he still had paperwork to fill out.

He left just as the woman of the house let out a blood-curdling scream. Angelina had arrived home to find the front door open, along with a blood-soaked Grell at the bottom of the stairs. She clung to the door for stability as her heart raced, threatening to pop at any second. It couldn't be possible… _no…. not Grell… oh please, God no…_

But there she lay, in a pool of red, her eyes glazed over as she started to turn a sickly shade of gray. Her vision went foggy as tears poured out, down her cheeks and dripping onto her fancy red coat, dragging with them her makeup. She felt as if her heart had been ripped out, which it probably had, seeing it dead on the floor. Turning her head away from the terrifying sight, she covered her eyes with her gloved hands and slid down the door. The house was empty, save for her.

She lived on the edge of London, with passersby walking by her house. They could see her weeping at the open door, but none offered help, nor any sign that they saw her. They walked by with their own lives, oblivious to the one that had ended mere feet away from them. Angelina sat in her house, all alone, with her own secret, her dead secret.

As she looked up at peek at Grell, she found herself crawling over to be with her one and only child. She choked out sobs as her red eyes gazed at her world. Her silken hair framed her bloodied face, tainted with a deeper shade of red. Her large green eyes were still wide open, but were devoid of life. Her small lips were parted mid-scream with her tiny fingers balled into tight fists near her delicate head. Angelina's shoulders shook as she held out a shaking hand to caress her baby's cheek one last time. She would never be happy again, she couldn't, not when her soul had died. Had it not been for Ciel's return, she would've killed herself, only to be with her one child.

Sounds of Grell's happy gurgle filled her mind as a fresh wave of tears poured out and she pulled her hand back, clutching at her heart. Gut-wrenching sobs echoed through the lonely house as nighttime slowly consumed London.

Angelina lay in bed, still dressed, tears dried up as the fire slowly crackled in her room. How was she going to live now? She had no purpose to live anymore… her only child was gone. How could fate play such a cruel joke on her? Why did she deserve such sadness? First her sister and _him_, now Grell… who would be next? Ciel? She couldn't let that happen.

Her eyes stared at an insignificant spot on the wall as she questioned her life and its future, if there even should be one. A sudden thought popped into her already-busy mind and it made her eyes widen. It was a common thought to have after having a loss. The funeral… but with a funeral comes a funeral director. She would have to tell him. He might've forgotten… no, he wouldn't have forgotten. He didn't seem like one to forget a mid-night shag in the rain by a woman clad in head-to-toe red. Angelina frowned somewhat... she would have to tell him. But it might cause problems… he has the right to know.

Confusing thoughts and decisions jumbled through her mind all night until she finally fell victim to sleep at half past 2 in the morning, her head lolling forward to rest on her collarbone as her eyes drifted shut.

* * *

Oh, the drama. Woe is me. ^^

Review if you liked it! Or if it made you cry... give me your opinions! (but only if they're positive :)


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